


no hope, no quarter

by TheSpaceCoyote



Series: Kylux Omegaverse Week [5]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alpha Kylo Ren, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Badass Hux, Blood and Violence, Feral Behavior, Force Bond (Star Wars), Kidnapping, M/M, Non-Consensual Touching, Omega Armitage Hux, Possessive Behavior, Protective Armitage Hux, Sith Rituals, fight to the death, mpreg mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-16
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2020-05-13 02:51:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19242328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSpaceCoyote/pseuds/TheSpaceCoyote
Summary: Stolen away to a temple on Moraband, Kylo Ren finds himself at the mercy of an obsessive, sinister captor.Only one person can hope to save him, and would even dare put their life on the line against such insurmountable odds—Armitage Hux, his general and lifelong mate.





	no hope, no quarter

**Author's Note:**

> Catching up on the Omegaverse Week prompts! This one is for "Protective Instincts" and man did I have a lot of fun with it. I like to fuck up Hux a lot but every once and awhile it's nice to make him just a bit of a badass. And hey, it is at least semi-canonical that he's a mean fighter...
> 
> Forgive any lore-flubbing here, I'm still learning.

The rescue shuttle had nearly sunk into the sand when it first landed upon Moraband, though the pilot had done his level best to scout out the most stable part of the landscape to bring it in. Hux sincerely doubts they’ll be able to get it back up off the ground before the windstorm abates, but he hasn’t a moment to worry about the functionality of their ship. So with a thick coat made specifically for hostile climates and a wide-brimmed, peaked cap strapped atop his head, he sets out into the whistling winds, following both the intel his officers had gathered and his own guiding instinct.

Hux, profoundly, feels he’s an intruder here, that every step he takes on this planet is an insult to the shifting dunes and ancient stones around him. He feels small, insignificant as the flecks of red dust catching on his coat. It is a feeling he hates.

Hux needs to complete the extraction as quickly as possible.

Before him, a great, redstone pyramid lay nestled between two jagged, precipitous peaks rises out of the sands, its exterior lashed and eroded endlessly by the howling winds. It just barely pokes out of the rusty earth, in a somewhat haphazard, almost accidental-looking fashion; as if the temple had its foundation built aeons ago at the very core of the planet, but at some point had become untethered, its lines rotted away or intentionally cut, and then floated up to the surface to become half-lodged, unable to totally break free. A thought flashes across Hux’s mind, that he may set foot inside the temple the moment its ancient stones finally break free, that he may become lost as it floats off into the raging sandstorm and beyond, but he pushes the fear away and digs into the material of his coat to yank it tight about his body. The skin of his face smarts, already rubbed raw in places by his time on the planet, despite the wide brim of his hat. Although the temple exudes foreboding, darkly unknowable energy that even a Force-Null such as himself can sense, at least it will provide him physical shelter from the pelting, inhospitable weather.

Not to mention, he knows that what he seeks lies deep inside of it.

Hux had brought a heavily armed squadron with him, each trained in unconventional warfare and special operations, but once they set foot inside of the temple all of them prove worthless as the very shadows licking up the walls around them start to shift and distort. Hux snatches his blaster from his belt, firing into the morass of blackness that hisses and screams in a thousand warring voices as it swallows up his men—but the shots only strike harmlessly at the walls and ceiling and causing rock and sand to cascade upon them. Hux tries to roar commands to his troops and press them forward, but one by one the slithering shadows toss them up into the air, gnawing at their helpless, screaming bodies with incorporeal jaws, stealing them from the realm of the living with a vicious, susurrating _snap_.  

Before long, Hux stands alone, his men killed and ripped apart down to the last. He takes a step back, having half a mind to flee out into the elements, windstorm and grounded shuttle be damned, but then the many shadowy appendages of the entity coalesce back together, keeping him transfixed as it thickens, elongates out, luxuriating in its inconceivable horror.

As Hux watches helplessly, a towering monolith of black leers up before him, flickering and indistinct at the edges, like ink blotted in the fabric of reality. Hux’s knees waver and he nearly gives in and falls to the floor to submit to madness and fear before he remembers _Ren_ , trapped within these walls, awaiting rescue.

He holds firm. Even with certain death glaring down upon him, from those sinister red eyes penetrating through the chaotic mass of flickering shadow tongues, he stands his ground and lifts his chin. If he is to die, he will die on his feet, for the sake of his mate.

But the apparition doesn’t strike him down, doesn’t seize his flailing body like it had the troopers, let its infectious darkness eat away at him. It keeps still, serpentine length roiling with the thousands of little tendrils giving it shape, gazing at Hux with an unwavering glare of glowing red—red like the plasma of Ren’s saber, the blade that had shielded him from danger uncountable times in his life.

Hux suddenly feels as if he were standing trial—Ren’s life held in contempt, should he be found guilty.

Still, he continues to stand, staring at the creature, unsure of what else he can do. His breath freezes in his throat when it moves, finally passing its judgment upon him, but instead of killing him it suddenly shudders, from the tip of its undulating tail all the way up to its head. As if rent apart from the middle, the entire body of the serpent collapses, spreading in a writhing, incandescent black puddle over the antechamber floor.

Hux gasps and skirts backwards, like a child at the beach fleeing oncoming waves, but the pool of tendrils squirms harmlessly over his boots, some winding around his ankles for a moment before continuing on their path. Hux turns in a full circle, watching as the dissolved elements of the snake slither away, retreating back through dark holes in the floor and behind broken slabs of debris. The whispering of voices in Hux’s ears gradually fades, until he stands in complete silence, without even the sound of the lashing winds outside breaching the temple’s walls.

The way in front of him now lies clear. Hux pants, trying to shake off the frightfulness of what he’d just witnessed. He keeps his blaster clenched firmly in his shaky hands, shoulders tensed and reactions on a hair trigger as he rushes forward, out of the antechamber and into a narrow hallway leading further and further into the heart of the temple.

The deeper he goes, the narrower the walls seem to close in around him. His nose fills with stale air, shoulders nearly brushing up against the stone on both sides, seemingly illuminated from within by a red glow. His lungs squeeze at the dearth of air as he presses forward, and just when he thinks he might suffocate the passage widens. Hux gasps as he stumbles through, suddenly finding himself in a massive, pyramidal chamber. Above him, the ceiling rises and rises until it meets at a point—an oculus cut through the stone, minuscule at this distance, letting in only a tiny square of dim red light from the outside world. The stones of the wall here glow too, threaded with huge, geometric veins of pulsating energy, as if the temple itself was permeated with primal, sinister life. Statues of cloaked figures, nearly half as tall as the interior of the pyramid itself, tower in each corner, their eyes covered by their hoods—some sporting flat, pensive expressions, others grinning wickedly.

Hux, somehow, feels even smaller than he had outside in the churning sands.

He scans the room once, searching for his target. When he sweeps back again, his heart leaps in his throat at the sudden appearance of a black cloaked figure, standing at the other side of the circular dais rising shallowly up out of the floor. Hux clutches his blaster to his chest, expecting the figure to either fade, like an apparition, or lunge across the room and attack him, spill his blood upon the sand-strewn stones.

Hux’s voice sticks in his throat as he struggles to keep calm, eyes fixed upon the cloaked form, waiting for it to move. When it doesn’t, he finally swallows down his fear, and takes a chance.

“Was that creature acting at your behest?” Hux calls, his voice echoing throughout the vast room. The hood figure stays still, rippling, as if it hadn’t heard him.

“Respond, or I take your head off,” Hux grits out as he levels his blaster at the figure, aiming for the hood atop hunched shoulders. His finger curls on the trigger, heart quickening in his ears. One. _Two_.

Before Hux can get any further, the figure turns, the hem of its cloak rustling the rusty sand at its feet. Hux pulse spikes, blood running cold and palm growing clammy around the grip of his blaster.

A pair of eyes stare at him from across the room, fever-bright and tinted with fire beneath the ratty brim of a cowl; piercing despite the distance. Hux feels nerves prickle on the back of his neck, hair standing up. He tries to hold steady, keeping the blaster trained on the stranger as they reach up and remove the hood, letting it fall back against their shoulders.

At one point, he might’ve been an attractive man, that much Hux can tell by his long shocks of rich, brown hair and the balanced shape of his face. But the sand matted into those wavy locks and the blackened scar that runs in a column right down the middle from hairline to chin, enrobing his entire nose and most of his mouth in wicked, disfigured tissue, distracts from any other appeal that might still remain. He smiles a putrid smile of yellowed teeth, one corner of his mouth pinching up too far and puckering into his cheek.

Hux’s nostrils flare, trying to get a proper read on the madman, but what he smells surprises him enough that he takes a step back.

 _Omega_.

The scent thrashes violently about the room, spitting into the air and snaking around the deep, runic grooves in the floor. It feels like a tangible, threatening thing, and Hux barely represses the urge to flinch and jerk his foot up off the ground when he feels it snap at his ankle.

Not just any omega. The air thrums with energy, weaves with the scent—a familiar sensation with a fresh, sinister edge. _A force-wielder._

And a powerful one, at that. Hux tenses, glaring his opponent down even as his swallows nervously around the lump in his throat.

“Welcome, General Hux. Good to see you’ve arrived in one piece.” When the omega speaks, Hux feels the chamber around him quiver, as if his voice both echoes against the walls around him and grates right up against his skin. It drips with eagerness and contempt, sliding over Hux’s title in mockery, as if it means nothing. Belatedly, he realizes how odd it is that a strange omega knows both his name and rank—but if he knows enough about Kylo Ren to try capturing him, perhaps it’s not too far-fetched that he’s learned the identity of the man’s mate.

Still, Hux tries to keep his mind closed-off, shoring up his mental defenses so the omega can’t penetrate them and steal any more information.

“Where is Kylo Ren?” Hux demands, ignoring the omega’s question. He can smell his mate’s strong scent in the room, albeit smothered by that of the omega and the metallic, earthy tinge of the scattered sands. Ren must be here. His captor must be hiding him.

“Is that why you’re here?” The omega snickers, purposefully playing the fool. Hux’s trigger finger itches with an urge to blow that smile apart right then and there, but keeps calm. With such a dangerous opponent, he’ll have to use his sharpest wits and smartest tactics to make it out alive.

“Of course. You two are _involved_ , aren’t you? So fortunate, that an insignificant little weasel such as yourself managed to deceive such an apex as Kylo Ren into bonding. Truly extraordinary.”

Hux knows the omega is trying to get a rise out of him, force him to lose his composure and trick him into doing something stupid. He isn’t going to fall for that. Hux has long grown used to deflecting insults like his best shields deflect cannon fire.

“Where is Kylo Ren?” He repeats. The omega shakes his head, disappointed Hux won’t entertain its silly game of taunts. Still facing Hux, he steps to the side, revealing what he’d kept hidden behind him.

Hux’s heart drops at the sight of the altar rising up behind the omega, a shroud of black draped over what could only be a human figure lying supine atop it. Panic thrums through his vein, as he wonders if he’d come far too late.

“Your concern is sweet, general, but I wouldn’t be foolish enough to kill as useful an alpha as Kylo Ren.” The omega lifts his hand, and slowly the shroud slithers off the altar and onto the floor, revealing the bound, naked body of his mate.

Save for some blood on his temple and a bruise blooming on his cheek, Ren looks unharmed, though he doesn’t move when the veil is pulled off of him. _Can’t_ , Hux amends, as he notices the cuffs keeping Ren pinned to the altar by the wrists and ankles.

His lids are half opened, but what Hux can see of his eyes are glassy and slow-moving. When Hux focuses, he can still feel him through their bond, but there’s something blocking its usual intensity. Hux isn’t sure what to blame—the cuffs binding Ren’s feet and hands, the rough symbols splashed in black and red all over his naked body—but something is dampening their bond, as well as Ren’s Force powers. Otherwise, Hux has no doubt he would’ve already broken free, snapped this miscreant’s neck, and send out a distress signal all on his own.

Ren’s no slouch—but he’d obviously been taken unawares. Hux can’t suppress a growl at the thought—an enemy omega, subduing his mate, stripping him naked and lashing him to the altar. He can only imagine what the son of a bitch might have done to him had Hux not arrived when he did.

Although, he has a sinking feeling he’s been expected all this time.

Hux wonders how he could get to Ren with this madman in the way. He sizes up the scene before him, wracking his brain for a solution. The omega has Ren’s saber thrust through their belt but no other visible weapons. But if he knows how to wield it, that’d be more than enough—Hux has seen that blade in action, its violent arc as it cuts through Ren’s enemies as easily as a hot poker through slabs of fat. He’s a quick runner, but he could easily see himself sprinting across the dais, only for the omega to cut his legs out from beneath him with that weapon, send him sprawling and bleeding to death on the floor. _No._ He needs to think of a better plan.

“It would be in your best interest to surrender,” Hux says, seeing if Ren’s captor would falter to intimidation, “a lone omega cannot stand up to the might of the First Order. Release Kylo Ren, and perhaps I will be moved enough to let you escape, before I command this entire temple razed to the ground from orbit.”

“You think mere military might can destroy a Sith temple?” The omega practically giggles, twirling the haft of Ren’s lightsaber as if it’s a children’s toy, and not a deadly, unstable weapon. “Then you’re perhaps more foolish than I first believed, general. You will make for an easy kill.”

“You mean to kill me, then?” Hux scoffs. “Then why not let your pet do the job? It had little problem cutting down my men.”

“You’re bonded with him, aren’t you?”

“What business is it of yours?”

“Oh, it _very_ much concerns me. Your _mate_ ,” the omega speaks the word as if it’s drooling with poison, “happens to be one of the most powerful Force-wielders remaining in the galaxy. I’m sure you know that—but of course, you wouldn’t realize just how powerful _two_ Force-wielders can be, when bonded in body _and_ mind.”

Hux supposes he didn’t. Things always grew a bit too esoteric and incomprehensible for him whenever Ren tried to explain the exact difference between an alpha-omega bond and a “Force bond” was. Hux understood the gist of it, in as much as it affected him—Ren’s abilities strengthened the existing bond he’d made with Hux, though the general wasn’t sensitive to the same metaphysical plane. He always thought Ren would be willing to try to explain to him the finer details at a later date, but at the time Hux had grown to frustrated to try to wrap his mind around it any further.  

“Unfortunate, then, that he is bonded to _me_.”

“And that’s why you’re here, dear general.” The omega spreads out his arms, gesturing to the vast chamber around him with splayed palms. “At the site of this ancient ritual, these long-lost stones, parched, _thirsting_ for blood.”

Hux tightens his grip on the blaster, wondering if he could get one bolt off before the omega crushed his spine against the wall. He stays his hand, still trying to come up with a better plan, as his opponent drones through his arcane ramblings.

“United together Kylo Ren and I will become more powerful than any other pair the galaxy has ever seen...and our litters will carry on our legacy for _centuries_ to come.” The omega smirks, gesturing to his flat abdomen. Anger flashes through Hux, instincts ruffled.

“What makes you think I will allow you to breed with _my_ alpha?” he growls. “Unless your brain has rotted away along with your face.”

“Petty insults won’t wound me, general. I will have Kylo Ren, whether you like it or not.” The omega’s eyes glow somehow brighter, and he lifts his hand in the air, curling his fingers.

For a moment, Hux expects an invisible vise to close enough his throat and end his life right then and there, and he flinches in anticipation of it. But nothing happens—at least that’s what Hux thinks at first, until he hears a choked whine coming from beyond the omega, from where Ren lies strapped to the altar. To his horror, Hux sees his mate’s naked cock twitch, synchronized with the deliberate movements of the omega’s fingers. A cruel, lascivious grin spreads over the man’s face as he starts to move his hand up and down in slow, flickering movements, working the ghostly pressure of the Force over Ren’s hardening shaft. The alpha tosses his head to the side, eyes now stretched wider and glistening with confusion, with unwanted arousal.

“ _Stop_ ,” Hux snarls, blood practically steaming in his veins. Ren writhes atop the stone, precum beading at the tip of his cock as it swells red and needy. He rattles his binders, heaving chest cracking the inked symbols dried onto his skin. The omega only giggles madly in response, giving Ren’s cock a harsh squeeze that has him sobbing breathlessly, unwilling to give in yet now desperate to get off. 

“You see? It doesn’t matter whether you _allow_ me to breed your alpha. It will happen one way or another. And look at him—he’s so _willing_. So ready to fill me with our heirs.” He pats his belly proudly, rubbing it, as if already envisioning how he’ll swell with Ren’s pups.

“That’s why I must kill you, general. The easiest way to break a bond between an alpha and an omega is _death_.”

The reason that the snake let him live then becomes abundantly clear. Of course, this omega and his little pet could’ve offed him at any time, with little effort. But he’s bonded to Ren, had stolen that opportunity from his captor. And for that, he must now die, in this inscribed circle, because a madman wants to take his mate for himself.

Hux’s starting to wish Ren had never gone on this stars-forsaken mission in the first place and landed in desperate need of rescue. If he dies, he’s going to haunt the every-loving- _hell_ out of Ren and his deranged new bride, Force-Null or not.

“No sense in wasting any more time then, is there? Especially not when Kylo Ren is so eager to mate with me.” The omega smirks, giving Ren’s cock one more short stroke before letting it go completely. The alpha’s lips part, drooling onto the stone with each uncontrollable whimper. Hux sincerely wonders if maybe he’s been drugged, on top of bound and marked.

The omega moves to take a combat stance, but Hux stops him, holding up a hand. “Wait.” His opponent halts, but tilts his head.

“Why? The sooner I kill you, the sooner I can mate with Ren and feel our brood prosper inside me.”

Hux swallows, putting his disgust at the omega’s undue sexual obsession with breeding aside, and instead summoning up both his learned debate skills and natural gift of persuasion.  

“Because it’s not a fair fight. Not only do you have Kylo Ren’s lightsaber, but you also possess the gift of the Force. Don’t you mystical lot keep some sort of code of honor? Or are all of you born from the same treacherous, slimy ilk?”

Hux slips up with the insults, but can’t hold back all his anger and disdain for the competing omega. His opponent folds his arms over his stomach, letting out a dismissive snort.

“What would a mere officer know about the vows of the Sith?” He hisses, hand brushing over the butt of Ren’s lightsaber. Hux, in response, twirled his blaster until the barrel points towards the floor, holding it out in compromise.

“Kylo Ren,” he continues, “will hold a far greater respect for you, if you kill his mate while on equal footing. On your own merits as an omega.”

Hux always hated the obsessive, fearful yet fawning regard that several of his petty officers had developed for Ren, especially when the alpha stopped wearing his helmet aboard the ship, but right now he thanks his lucky stars the omega is hopelessly infatuated with his mate. His opponent cocks his head, looking briefly behind himself at his bound prize. He nods.

“Very well, general. You make a sage point.” The omega withdraws Ren’s saber from his belt, letting it float reverently up off of his cupped palms. It drifts to rest at the altar beside the alpha, beyond reach of either of them. Ren looks dully down at it, before lifting his eyes to gaze at Hux. Pain and despair momentarily flickers across his vacant expression, as if Ren is fighting whatever’s suppressing him. Deep within the amortized channel in their mind, Hux hears a whisper.

 _Please_.

Hux doesn’t know if Ren can understand him, but nevertheless he looks his mate right in his glossy, dim eyes, and thinks as loudly as he can.

 _I will_.

Hux levels his gaze back at the omega, making good on his own end of the bargain and dropping his blaster into the dust. He kicks it back behind him, out of reasonable reach.

“We have a deal, then?”

The omega holds up his right hand, dirtied palm turned outwards.

“I swear to you, General Hux, on the Force itself. I’ll use only my own body to bring about your demise.”

Truthfully, the omega’s oath means nothing to Hux. Aside from his own innate sense of honor, nothing binds him to his words. But what option does he have? Refusal means being slain where he stands, with not a chance to defend himself and claw out victory for both himself and Ren. And he’s already given Ren his life anyway, when they bonded—without him, there’s little left. So Hux nods reluctantly, keeping his eyes fixed upon the other omega’s mad, molten ones.

“Very well.”

“Excellent, excellent general.” The omega nods, still smirking with confidence as he begins to remove his robes. They fall to the floor in a pool of threadbare black fabric, revealing a simple tunic fixed in places with irregular patches.

“Prepare yourself. Soon, I will cut your spirit from your miserable body.”

Hux’s quickly tiring of the omega’s esoteric drivel, but he can’t let his irritation disrupt his focus. Taking a steadying breath, he pinches off his cap and shrugs the heavyweight coat from his shoulders, immediately feeling a good couple pounds lighter, more limber. Hux removes his belt next before unzipping his uniform jacket and draping both articles of clothing over his forearm. He folds them onto the floor beside him then peels off the padded blouse that helps give his frame more shape and intimidation, adding it to the rest of his discarded layers. Now in only his uniform pants and black singlet, he faces the enemy.

He’s shorter than Hux but broader in the hips and shoulders, torso bulked out with far more trained muscle than Hux possesses. Still, he tries to swallow down his mounting fear, knowing it’ll only hamper him in the fight ahead.

Hux tilts his head to the side and cracked his neck, swinging his arms around him until they feel stretched and supple. He keeps his gloves on, the leather crinkling as he curls his fingers into fists. His hexagonal dog tags clink against one another, settling on their chain between his slender pectorals. He lets muscle memory guide him in a stable fighting position, instinct pounding blood in his ears and picking his lip up over his pinpoint omega fangs.

“Frightening. Who would have thought the effete and haughty General Hux would have genuine combat experience?” His opponent laughs from the other side of the dais, heavy boots echoing against the inscribed stones. “Afraid you still won’t be any match for me.”

“Are you going to continue talking?” Hux interrupts, shaking out his hand before clenching it back into a fist. In truth, he hasn’t engaged in direct hand-to-hand combat since his Academy days, unless one counts the occasional refresher course with training droids on the _Finalizer_. He trusts his body to recall the basics, but that doesn’t necessarily mean he’ll be able to hold his own against a trained warrior.

But he has no other option but to give it his all.

The omega lunges first—fist raised back before plunging towards Hux with alarming speed. He just barely manages to rear back and dodge a swipe to the eyes, then crosses his forearms with a block as a sharp knee rockets upwards, aimed at his belly.

Hux throws away the omega’s leg, hoping to knock him off balance. He doesn’t quite flail like Hux hoped, but leaves him open for a quick jab to the chin.

The omega’s teeth clack sharply together as he takes a step back, blocking Hux’s next sideswipe with his forearm. He curls his hand around to grab Hux’s wrist, pulling him in and socking him in the sternum. Hux hisses in pain as the blow resounds through his chest, ripping his arm out of his opponent’s grasp and hopping away.

The toes of his boots grind against the sand scattered over the dais as he skids to a halt in a defensive position. Hux rests his hand against his middle, feeling it rise and fall with his panting. He keeps his eyes leveled, watching his opponent as he charges to him from an angle.  

Hux skates his boot in an arc through the sand, kicking it up in the omega’s eyes. He winces and scrunches his face tight, as Hux launches forward, barreling into him shoulder first. He inverts his hand, clawing for his opponent’s genitals from under the hem of his tunic. His nails scrape at the omega’s woven pants but fail to catch on anything, and before Hux can steal back away and recoup he finds himself trapped in his opponent’s clutches.

The omega wraps his arm around Hux’s neck and grabbed his own elbow, getting the general into a clinch. He sees red for a split second before sharply twisting his head around, sharp fangs finding a bit of soft, dangling flesh and biting down as hard as he can.

His opponent screams, instantly releasing him from the hold and pulling violently away. Hux clenches his jaw, keeping the flap of skin tightly between his teeth until it tore off in his mouth. He lurches forward, struggling to stay on his feet as he whirls around to see the omega cursing, hand clasped to the side of his head. Tasting foul blood, Hux spits upon the ground, a raggedy chunk of earlobe splattering onto the runic stones.

“I’ll _pfaasking_ kill you," the omega screeches, rapidly losing his composure as he lunges forward, wildly swinging at Hux with both fists. The general turns his body to block, flexing as he took the blow on his shoulder, before it glances up and catches him on the temple. He stumbles back a couple paces, arms swaying with the impact but still keeping his chin up. He catches another blow on his cheek but swiftly rebounds, unleashing a barrage of blows on his opponent’s torso and driving him back.

The fighting is dirty, brutal. Spit bubbles at their lips, blood staining through teeth. There is no referee, no ringing bell, no one keeping score. It feels like the fights Hux had been roped into at the Academy—tests of tenacity and killing instinct, as much as pure technique.

He _relishes_ in it.

With a terse bark Hux rams his elbow straight in the omega’s nose, swiftly rewarded with a resounding _snap_. He screams in pain, swinging his head to the side as he stumbles backwards in an attempt to recover.

Blood flies before Hux’s eyes, adrenaline coursing madly through his veins as he continues his onslaught against the enemy omega, pursuing him across the dais like a vicious predator. Quickly upon him once more, Hux slams the heel of his palm just below the omega’s ribs and into his diaphragm, nearly knocking the wind out of him. The omega heaves dropping his arms and exposing his face. Hux sneers, showing his teeth, prepared to strike out against one of the soft spots in his

But just as Hux is about to drive his hand into the omega’s face and claw into the jelly of his eyes, he gasps; invisible fingers suddenly clenching tightly around his throat. He stumbles over his own momentum, grasping at his windpipe as he feels his knees go weak. In front of him, the omega sneers through the blood dripping from his nose, hand extended out towards Hux’s neck.

“S-so sorry,” he cackles, voice hysterically high-pitched, “I can’t let myself lose at any cost. Kylo Ren is _mine_.”

The hold tightens around Hux’s throat, robbing his hair and dropping him to the ground. Hux’s knees strike the worn stone, pain radiating through his bones. The omega advances upon him, frantic laughter reaching a maddening pitch in Hux’s ears. His nails dig at his throat in a futile effort to rip the grasp of the Force away so that he could breathe. Hux chokes pink froth over his lower lip, eyes nearly bugging out of their sockets. _Stars_ , he thinks distantly _, he’s going to die, isn’t he?_

The omega leers above him, slowly clenching his fist. Hux wheezes, sweat beading down his flushed skin. He wants badly to muster one last attack against the hateful creature, not die groveling at his feet, but his strength wanes with his last gasps of breath.

 _Ren_ , Hux calls out in his mind, despairing, _I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry_.

Hux feels darkness creeping at the edges of his consciousness, his extremities starting to tingle as the omega strangles the life out of him. At the last second, before he loses control of himself completely, he tries reaching out at their bond, reaching out for Ren, for anyone, somebody, help him—

Then, out of the darkness consuming his body, he senses a cluster of light, of _warmth_ , blossoming up inside of him. With nothing left to rely on he clings tightly, holding the pulses of life close to him, linking his life to theirs inexorably as he promises to protect them—if only they’ll give him the strength to do it.

 _Yes_ , the light whispers, rising up inside him, pushing back against the throttling darkness. _Fight_.

It builds and builds and builds inside him, until Hux can no longer contain it within his body alone, until it fills his mind to bursting, until a rallying shout bursts from his lips and he throws off the strangling pressure on his throat. His eyes fly open, bloodthirsty and streaked with petechiae as he flings his arms out to the side, an invisible shockwave knocking his stunned opponent off balance.

Furious, inhuman energy floods through every capillary in Hux’s body as he surges to his feet, finger gliding along his calf until it catches the hilt peeking out just above the cuff of his boot. With a vicious flourish, he pulls the slim, monomolecular blade out of its hidden sheath, eyes glimmering with unstable ferocity as he lunges at his staggering opponent, tip first.

Hux slams bodily into the omega, blade sinking all the way into his belly. Agonized shrieks rebounds around the vast chamber, shimmering red dust raining all around them as the omega collapses to the floor, Hux landing on top of him.

He grips the handle of the blade so tightly it nearly hurts his knuckles. Blood wells up out of the wound, staining the omega’s raggedly tunic as Hux grinds his free palm against the butt of the hilt, driving the tip further into his stomach.

“What...was that you said?” Hux pants, chest heavily rising and falling as he looms above his downed opponent, hair blazing around his face. “That you’ll breed a new...race of Force-users...with _my_ alpha?”

The omega sobs and screams, clawing weakly at Hux’s hands. He scrapes out with the Force, managing only to glance against the burgeoning shield of power as it radiates out from the general’s triumphant mind.

“Well,” Hux snarls, face a mask of sadism as he twists the blade deeper into the omega’s belly, “looks like you won’t be bearing the child of _any_ alpha now.”

His opponent has hardly a moment to absorb the ruination of his womb before Hux rips the blade out of his belly, splattering an arc of blood across the stones then stabbing viciously downwards. Hux throws all his remaining strength behind the knife, pushing the tip through the omega’s rib cage and into his heart. With blood in his nose and victory coursing through his veins, Hux brings the blade up and down _one_ , _two_ , _three_ more times until the omega’s screams devolve into gurgles, and then dissipate into nothing. With one final stab he leaves it buried in the omega’s wrecked and bloodied chest, breath heaving in and out of his lungs in fervent bursts.  

Silence falls in the chamber. Somewhere outside the walls, far in the distance, thunder rumbles, lashing the bloody storm clouds with tongues of lightning.

Hux slows his breathing, finally unclenching his fingers from around the hilt of the blade, keeping his blade just barely gripped in his hand as he slides it back into its sheath. He spits a glob of saliva onto the omega’s dead expression, before planting his palms on the floor and struggling to his feet.

The chamber swims in a dizzying twirl of red for a moment as Hux straightens up as best as he can. He tastes vomit in the back of his throat, still suffering the effects of the near strangulation, but he manages to keep upright. Blinking rapidly, he realizes he’s facing the narrow hallway he entered from. Slowly he turned around, eyes falling upon where his mate still lays stretched out and nude.

“R-Ren…” Hux rasps, stumbling the remaining distance to the altar, nearly collapsing against the edge as adrenaline ebbs from his body. Ren moans softly in response, turning his head sideways and mouthing something inaudible. Hux hushes him, bracing one elbow against the stone surface as the other reaches out to cradle Ren’s face, smearing one of the ugly symbols from his skin.

“ _Shh_ , dearest, I’m alright…” He slides the tips of his fingers up into Ren’s hair, lightly pulling him in until their foreheads rest together. Ren’s breath still rolls slow and deep out of him, but his eyes roam over Hux’s face with rekindled lucidity.

“...H-Hurt you...Hux…”

“I-I think I hurt him a whole lot more…” Hux chuckles weakly, managing to pull one knee up on the edge of the altar, then the other. “You don’t...have to worry about that madman any longer, Ren. I took care of it. You’re _mine_.”

“ _Yours_ …” Ren whispers, with all the relief of a prayer finally fulfilled. His arms still lie above him, trapped in the cuffs, so Hux withdraws his still-bloodied blade out of its ankle sheath, and sets about sawing through them. They must be older than they look, because he cuts them off with ease. Hux feels a surge of pride—First Order technology really is superior to all others.

Once Ren is free of his binds Hux carefully helps him ease his body back into a natural position, then lies down beside him once more. He’s dying to leave this awful temple once and for all, now that the enemy omega lies on the floor, fodder for the insects and snakes comprised of pure darkness or whatever other kind of horrors dwell within its depths. He rubs Ren’s muscles, feeling the strength slowly start to return to him—wonderful, because Hux’s injuries are slowly sapping his.

“I...I worried…” Ren mumbles, blinking his eyes rapidly, slowly coming back to full consciousness. “Really did...look like he was going to kill you.” He has his hand on Hux’s hip—he gives it a gentle, possessive squeeze.

“Oh, Ren, you fool…” Hux smiles softly, running his fingers back through his mate’s velvety hair. “Did you really think I was going to let our pups grow up without a father?”

Ren furrows his brow, staring at him dumbly. After a moment, the realization dawns in his drugged mind, his eyes falling to the flat plane of Hux’s midriff, where his dirtied undershirt rides up.

“You…”

“A discussion for when we get back to the ship, perhaps.” Hux kisses the top of his head, smiling at the singing of the life inside him, as happy as he is to have their sire rescued. He can only imagine the lecture he’ll receive once Ren is fully recovered and in full charge of his mental faculties again—but Hux can’t imagine he’d ever regret doing what he had to in order to keep his mate safe.

It’ll make a wonderful story to tell their children.  

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, surprise mpreg. It's me, what did you think was going to happen?
> 
> Hit me up on [Tumblr](http://thethespacecoyote.tumblr.com) and [Twitter](https://twitter.com/heir_of_breath7/).


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